


Burning Star

by lotorotor



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Amnesia, Black Lion knows things okay and she has things she wants to happen, Canon Compliant, Good guy Lotor, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Minor weed mention, Oriande, POV Alternating, Post Season 6, Post canon, Rescue, Season 7 doesn’t exist, Season 8 doesn't exist either, Shady bitch romelle, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Tags May Change, Trust, Trust Issues, broganes, corrupted by quintessence, dont trust romelle, look season 6 was a lot but I have a keyboard and I can fix it, me taking canon and fixing it, minor mention of Lotura even though I Hate that ship, stoner Keith is implied
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2019-06-17 23:08:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15472152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lotorotor/pseuds/lotorotor
Summary: Voltron has been left bereft, nearly broken from Lotor's betrayal, but still standing. They can pick themselves back up, move on from this blow, and continue to save the universe. They're all determined to leave Lotor in the past and move on.Well, almost all of them.Keith feels a tugging on his heart and he can't bring himself to go along with everyone else. They're supposed to help people, aren't they? Keith isn't a selfless hero by any stretch of the imagination, but leaving Lotor to his death just feels wrong.Luckily, the Black Lion agrees with him, even if no one else does.





	1. I'll Save You From The Abyss

**Author's Note:**

> Me, banging on Dreamworks Studios with this fic in hand: I KNOW ITS A LONG SHOT BUT LOOK I HAVE IDEAS PLEASE HEAR ME OUT

Keith paced around the cockpit of the Black Lion, hands fidgeting with agitation. He'd brought his Lion to a standstill, poised as if to turn around, his mind buzzing with indecision.

"Keith, stop freaking out. We gotta go!" Lance said over the com. Keith took a deep breath, ignoring the voice of his friend, and snapped to a decision.

"You guys go on ahead. I'm going back for Lotor."

"WHAT?!" Hunk, Pidge, and Lance yelled in unison. Keith flinched at the volume.

"But why?" Allura's voice joined the fray, a bitter edge marring the usual musical lilt. "He betrayed us all. He betrayed the universe! He can't be trusted!"

Lance made a noise of agreement. "Yeah, he's better off in that rift!"

Keith shook his head and sat in the pilot's seat. "I can't leave him."

"Okay, but even if we ignore the fact that he's _literally evil_ , there's still no way back in that rift." Pidge argued.

The Black Lion hummed and Keith grinned. "That's where you're wrong."

And with that, he gripped the controls and steered the Lion back the way he came.

"KEITH!" A chorus of voices called after him. He ignored them.

* * *

 

Once he reached the spot where they'd left Lotor behind, he brought the Lion to a stop. He closed his eyes. "Okay, Black. What do we do?"

Black growled and he knew that she had a plan. Their bond had strengthened immensely after everything that had happened with Shiro and communication between Lion and Paladin was as effortless as breathing, for which Keith was grateful. He trusted Black, even as her growl gradually grew in volume, and his body tensed in tandem with the Lion's. Pressure hit him from all sides, intensifying with every second that passed until he thought that he was going to be crushed, but he felt completely calm. Whatever was happening, he knew that Black would never bring him to harm.

Just when it felt like his body was going to explode from the immense pressure, everything suddenly stopped. His body immediately relaxes and he opened his eyes to find himself in the white, quintessence filled rift.

"Good going, girl," he said appreciatively. "Now, where is he..." he squinted into the white.

Black hummed and slowly pivoted to the right.

"You know where he is?"

She hummed again.

"Let's go get him, then."

He maneuvered the Lion forward, keeping himself alert until he saw a humanoid figure in the distant sea of white. As he grew closer, he recognized it as Lotor's giant robot. His Voltron 2.0, complete with a tail.

Situating the Lion near the head, Keith pulled his helmet on and opened the door. Making sure he was attached to Black via a Lon cord, he slowly let himself float out of her mouth and towards the door of Lotor's Voltron.

He had to use brute force to get the head open, but once he did, he felt a rush of sadness. Lotor was still unconscious, with a cracked helmet, and purple blood dribbling from his forehead. The once dignified emperor turned crazed maniac looked almost pathetic.

Keith only hoped he was alive.

Hooking his arms under Lotor's armpits, he hoisted him out of his robot. Keith grunted as he maneuvered the half Galra to the Black Lion, who opened her mouth to let them in. He laid him on the floor, taking care not to jostle him too much, then slid back into his seat with a sigh.

"Alright, Black. Let's get out of here." He closed his eyes and the Lion repeated her earlier growl, the intense pressure resuming, until it stopped and they were out.

Keith looked around and noticed there was no rip left behind from his hopping in out of the rift. He theorized this was probably due to the fact that, instead of two Voltron types barging in, it had only been one Lion being exceptionally careful.

"Thank you, Black."

She purred in response.

Keith glanced back at the body on the floor. "What should we do, now? How can we help him?"

He closed his eyes, and the scape of his mind shifted. After finding Shiro, Keith had found that becoming one with Lion was exceedingly easy, which he knew was a good thing.

This time, he saw a castle sort of building that looked similar to the Castle of the Lions. He'd never seen it before, yet somehow, no doubt due to Black, he knew exactly where it was.

"The Oriande," he whispered.

Black purred.

"Do we know how to get there?" A hum went through his body, and he knew the route, but also that it was going to take quite a long time without a wormhole.

He was going to try and ask Allura for help. Now that was a long shot if he'd ever heard of one. He could only hope that his determination and stubbornness could match what he knew was going to be a tough conversation.

He wouldn't ask if he had any other choice.

"Do I have another choice?" He murmured. There was no response from Black, which was as good as a resounding _no._

Alright. That settled that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on other sites
> 
> tumblr: @glitch-h  
> instagram: @caramelmacchiatoart  
> twitter: @ramone_me


	2. Doing The Impossible For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The facts are that Lotor is still unconscious and been exposed to quintessence for much too long.
> 
> The Black Lion has a plan. An impossible plan that involves an impossible place.
> 
> Keith isn’t sure what he’s gotten himself into, but he’s seeing it through til the end

It had taken a long time a lot of negotiation, but he'd managed to convince the princess to open a portal to Oriande. She'd insisted it wouldn't do any good since Keith wasn't Altean, but he didn't care. Black wanted to go. He wanted to go. And Lotor needed some type of help.

If it was impossible, Black wouldn't have suggested going, right?

"Keith," Hunk said, "why are you insisting on helping Lotor after everything he did?"

Keith hesitated, unsure how to answer. "I don't know. I just... have to do this."

"Lotor's evil. What's the point of trying?"

"No ones completely irredeemable." Keith snapped. He took a deep breath. "Ok, almost no one. Point is, I don't think Lotor is too far gone."

"Are you kidding me?!" Lance yelled. Keith flinched. Lotor groaned, and he looked back at him, but the alien didn't wake up. He chose to ignore the Blue Paladin’s outburst.

"Allura, can I have the portal?"

"There's no point. But fine," she replied, voice stiff.

“Thank you. I’ll make it up to you, after I help Lotor.” He promised.

Allura was silent and Keith could practically feel the animosity rolling off of her. Perhaps he’d been cruel in asking her for this, but he didn’t know where else he could have turned. Allura was the only person he knew was capable of making a wormhole, even without the Castle of the Lions. 

Speaking of wormholes, the princess was true to her word, and opened one up in front of Black. Keith thanked her profusely as he flew through it, wasting no time.

“I still don’t know why you want to help him,” she said, her voice still cold. Keith wondered if she would ever warm up to him again. He wondered why he didn’t care more about it.

“I just have to, okay?” He replied. She let out a humph that communicated all the disapproval and bitterness that she had not been bothering to hide at all.

Allura would be okay. She wasn’t the one that had been left for dead in a sea of quintessence.

Keith piloted Black over and around massive scraps of unlucky ships. His eyes widened at the sheer amount of broken vessels. Yes, he’d heard plenty about this place, especially from Lance, but it was a whole different experience to see it for himself. All these people trying to reach the same goal as him, all of them failed.

What hope did Keith have? He was part galra, not part Altean. He wasn’t going to be one of the chosen few. It would be nothing short of a miracle if he survived this.

Lotor could go through, technically, but he was unconscious. Not only that, but he was corrupted by the quintessence he’d been saturated in, meaning that even if he was awake, he’d be volatile and unpredictable. Not someone Keith could trust to be on his own for any length of time.

As he worried about his upcoming task, Black began to purr. The vibrations swept through Keith’s body, calming him, settling his nerves, and insisting that things would work out.

Keith had no idea how this was supposed to play out, but he trusted Black. He had to.

The white hole, gateway to the Oriande, loomed before them. Keith’s pulse sped up as he flew toward it, slowing down to prolong the inevitable,but never coming to a complete stop.

“What do we do here, Black? Keep flying? Or do I need to prepare somehow?” Keith asked aloud.

Black purred and the image of them flying straight into the hole entered Keith’s mind.

“What about the guardian? I’m not Altean and I’m not chosen. There’s no way it’ll let me in.”

A second image, this one of the White Lion roaring filled Keith’s head. It was accompanied with the idea of standing their ground until they are allowed inside. He shifted nervously.

“Are you sure this is going to work?”

Black hummed, an annoyed edge to the sound, and Keith chuckled in amusement, scared though he was.

“I do trust you, I’m just a bit, uh, anxious. I’m sure you understand why.”

Another hum from Black, and Keith new he had procrastinated too long. The Lion was positive this was going to work, Lotor needed help, and they had no time to waste. He picked up the pace, flying into the white hole.

He was indeed greeted with a mighty roar from the White Lion. He brought Black to a stop, his eyes on the guardian, body tense. The roar grew in volume and Keith was pretty sure he’d just flown to his death.

Well, there were worse ways to die. At least he was trying to help someone. At least he was helping Lotor. He braced himself.

Then, suddenly, the White Lion was silent. It regarded the Black Lion with what seemed to be a stern air before turning and disappearing.

“Wait, what?” Keith whispered, shocked. He’d been led to believe that only Alteans were allowed inside. He’d also believed that he’d been inches from dying. Apparently, he’d been wrong on both accounts.

Nothing that was happening made sense. That was the main thought on Keith’s mind as he gazed around the landscape, that nothing that happened really made that much sense. That included his inane need to help Lotor.

His desire to save innocent people made sense. That was normal. But Lotor was not innocent in any sense of the word, and it was hard to argue that he’d done some pretty evil acts, so why he needed to save him didn’t add up.

Still, Keith steered his Lion down until they landed before the clearly Altean structure, though drastically different from the Castle of the Lions. The Oriande.

Keith was grateful for the two years of growth he’d crammed into a week while on the back of a space whale as he lifted Lotor bridal style, his purple head resting against his shoulder. He was still almost comically big when compared to the half human, but it wasn’t as bad as it would have been before. He also wasn’t light by any means, but he was manageable enough that Keith only grunted a few times as he carried him out of Black and into the Oriande. 

The moved forward and Keith tried to ignore the imposing features that surrounded them. He’d made it inside against all odds, and nothing was going to stop him from completing his task, despite the fact that he still didn’t know exactly what he had to do. Didn’t matter. He’d figure it out.

Eventually, he reached a glowing purple pool. It swirled and seemed to whisper to him, welcoming him into its depths. Despite the draw he felt, Keith hesitated. Reaching out with his mind, he asked Black what she thought. She replied with an image of bathing Lotor and the pool with an encouraging thrum. It seemed that whatever Keith was searching for, it was this. He knelt and placed the ex prince in the glowing liquid, holding his breath as waves began to lap at Lotor’s body.

How much time passed, he didn’t know. It could have been seconds or hours or days, but suddenly, Lotor was sitting upright and Keith’s heart swelled with relief. It wasn’t all for naught.

“What... happened?” Lotor asked, his normally smooth voice raspy and bewildered. He looked around, perfect brow furrowed, then yellow eyes were on Keith and his confusion increased. “Who are you?”

Keith chuckled. “We haven’t formally met have we?”

“Who are you?” Lotor repeated.

“My name’s Keith. Current paladin of the Black Lion.” 

Lotor’s eyes flicked over him, then settled on his face. “Where are we?”

“The Oriande.”

Lotor’s eyes were fixed on Keith, a crease between his eyes.

“You don’t look Altean,” his face was bleeding itself from confusion only to be replaced with outright shock.

Keith shrugged. “I’m not. I’m as confused as you, actually. I have no clue why the White Lion let me in.”

“If you’re not Altean it shouldn’t have,” Lotor said, “but why are we here? Why am in this pool? What is going on?”

“You were corrupted with quintessence and completely passed out. Black said this was the best bet to help you.”

Lotor’s face pinched with confusion once again. “Quintessence? What happened?”

“Here.” Keith held a hand out. “Let’s get out of here and then I’ll explain as best I can.”

Lotor hesitantly took the offered hand. “Ok...” he allowed himself to pulled out of the pool, glowing liquid streaming from his ragged clothes. He pulled his hand away as soon as he caught his balance, straightening his back and glancing down at Keith. “Lead the way, then.”

Keith nodded and did exactly that, glancing back now and then to make sure Lotor was still with him. When he made it back to the Black Lion, she hummed in welcome and opened her jaw.

“Why did you save me?” Lotor asked suddenly, quietly. Keith looked at him.

“I’m not sure. All I know is I couldn’t just leave you floating in the rift.” He replied.

They entered the Black Lion, Lotor looking about curiously. Keith smiled, remembering that he had never actually seen the inside of one of the Lions before.

Lotor swallowed before leaning against a wall. Keith took his seat and Black thrummed to life.

“What now?” Lotor asked, his eyes glancing everywhere but at the paladin.

“I guess we go back to the others.” Keith replied. Lotor swallowed again and nodded.

And Keith began to steer the Black Lion into the stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean, yeah, maybe there’s a few holes, like how it probably is impossible for Keith to get into the Oriande and maybe allura technically wouldn’t be able to portal it up without the Castle but this is a fanfiction for a sci-fi show so... this is what we’re doing
> 
> Find me on other sites
> 
> tumblr: @glitch-h  
> Instagram: @caramelmacchiatoart  
> twitter: @ramone_me


	3. Does It Help If I Say Sorry?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lotor wakes up with amnesia and finds out he’s done some things he very much regrets. But does it really count if he doesn’t remember doing them?
> 
> He’s pretty sure he already knows the answer
> 
> That doesn’t mean he likes the answer

-Lotor’s POV-

Everything was dark.

He was floating in an abyss, devoid of thought. Violent emotions raged through him, shifting too fast to truly keep track of. Rage, grief, joy, rage again. Back and forth like a pendulum gone mad, yet he was immobile. All he could do was float.

Cold. Everything was suddenly cold, his muscles tensing from the frigidity. The roaring tidal waves of emotion slowly faded until they were gentle waves ebbing in and out. Eventually, he evened out. Eventually, he stopped floating.

His surroundings slowly tickled his attention. He became aware that he was sitting in some sort of bath, though the liquid was much lighter and silkier than water. He was cold, but not as much as before.

Thinking was easier than it had been before. Before, his mind had been a chaotic mess, a tangled string that he couldn’t make sense of. Now, the thread straightened out into some semblance of logic. A gentle wave of relief washed over him.

He was in a pool for some reason he did not know. His mind searched for what could have possibly led to this, but he only remembered darkness and chaos. He strained to search his memories, eventually discovering an image. Him, sitting in a ship with Allura, prepared to enter the Rift. What happened after? He couldn’t remember. Why couldn’t he remember?

Allura. A small pinch of guilt stabbed his heart. Ah, right. She’d been falling for him. He’d noticed and he’d done nothing but encourage it, realizing how much more agreeable she was the more positive she’d felt about him. That had been regrettable of him, he had to admit.

Somehow he felt he had more to be guilty of, though he couldn’t remember what. The blank wall his mind presented him every time he tried to remember his time in the Rift was frustrating, to say the least.

Lotor decided it was time he opened his eyes.

He was on his back, staring at an intricately carved stone ceiling. It wasn’t familiar, though it felt like it should be. He sat up, noticing the way the shimmering purple liquid swirled around him. Everything his eyes landed on only provided him with more questions than answers. “What... happened?” He rasped to himself, continuing to search his surroundings. Again, the area was not familiar, though it almost tasted as though he’d been there before.

A small sigh to his right alerted him to the presence of another person. His eyes flicked to an unfamiliar stranger with a mop of dark hair. His confusion grew by the second, threatening to overwhelm him. “Who are you?”

The man chuckled, the sound not entirely unpleasant. “We haven’t formally met, have we?” He asked, his voice husky and low, though also tinged with amusement that set Lotor’s teeth on edge. He did not like feeling mocked. Though, when it came down to it, that voice wasn’t the worst one to mock him.

“Who are you?” He repeated, trying not to let his frustration show.

“My name’s Keith. Current Paladin of the Black Lion.”

The Black Lion? But he was wearing the Red Paladin armor. Why wouldn’t the Black Paladin have the black armor?

His train of thought derailed as his eyes roamed his body and he noticed how the armor seemed to accentuate his physique. Yes, Black Paladin Keith was lean, but he exuded strength. It rippled beneath the surface like a threat, or a promise. Oh, he was interesting.

Gaze flitting back to his face, he noticed the way those fine features were thrown together had an interesting effect. One that made Lotor want to linger in looking at him, studying him.

Then he noticed the large, triangular scar on his jaw that arched over his cheek. Somehow, the mark only added to his allure, rather than detracting from it. And now Lotor desperately wanted to know the story behind the scar.

For now, that would have to wait. He had more pressing matters to attend to. More immediate questions that needed answers.

“Where are we?”

“The Oriande.”

Confusion rippled through Lotor’s body. The Oriande? That explained why his surroundings almost felt familiar but not quite, seeing as he’d been there once before.

He studied the man before him, searching for Altean features and glowing marks and coming up empty. This Keith looked about as human as the other Paladins, though there was definitely something other about him. Something not quite human, though it also wasn’t Altean. Something Lotor couldn’t quite put his finger on.

But if they were at the Oriande, he had to be Altean, right?

“You don’t look Altean,” he commented.

Keith shrugged. “I’m not. I’m as confused as you, actually. I have no clue why the White Lion let me in.”

Lotor felt as though he’d been punched in the face with pure shock. Not a single drop of Altean blood, yet he had managed to make it inside? It was unheard of.

“If you’re not Altean it shouldn’t have,” more insistent questions scrambled about in his mind, and he decided to let this subject drop for now. He could puzzle over it later. “But why are we here? Why am I in this pool? What is going on?”

“You were corrupted by quintessence and completely passed out. Black said this was the best bet to help you.” 

Lotor was confused again. Did this mean he’d made it into the Rift? Why couldn’t he remember anything? “Quintessence? What happened?”

Keith stood at the edge of the pool and stretched a hand out. “Here. Let’s get out of here and then I’ll explain as best I can.”

“Ok...” slowly, hesitantly, Lotor took the offered hand and allowed himself to be pulled from the pool. He couldn’t help but notice how warm the Paladins hand was in his own, and he almost didn’t want to let go. That was a dangerous thought to have, so he pulled his hand free as soon as he was sure he wouldn’t fall over. Straightening to his full height, he glanced down at the man. “Lead the way, then.”

Keith nodded and began walking away, and Lotor followed a few steps behind. Occasionally dark eyes would glance back to make sure they didn’t lose each other.

As they walked, Lotor studied the back of the man’s head, wondering why he had been the one to help him. Wondering why he was alone. Pondering the mystery that was the Black Paladin in Red armor, this Keith, this man who he’d never met before. Who had no reason to do any of what he was doing.

Was it his choice or was he the unlucky candidate that had pulled the short straw among the Paladins? Why was he here? Why was he acting as if all of this was utterly natural? A non Altean sauntering into the Oriande was unnatural. Someone seeing Lotor as someone worthy of help was unnatural. All of this was unnatural.

Perhaps it would make more sense if Lotor could only remember what had transpired between entering the Rift and waking up.

Finally, finally, they made it back to the Black Lion, who opened her jaw, welcoming them inside. Lotor felt himself tense. He’d never been inside one of the Lions of Voltron, not even when Zarkon has been in position of the Red one. And now he was going to enter the leader of the Lions.

The Black Lion was allowing him, Lotor, to enter.

Keith had rescued him.

Why?

“Why did you save me?” He asked softly, not wishing to speak too loudly. 

Keith looked at him, and Lotor found himself unable to meet those dark eyes.

“I’m not sure,” he replied, “all I know is I couldn’t just leave you floating in the Rift.”

The answer wasn’t anywhere near enough, though it implied that Keith had acted according to his own wishes. That this had been his idea. Curious.

They entered the Black Lion and Lotor searched his surroundings hungrily, curious about the famous Voltron Lion. The tech was surprisingly advanced for being built more than 10,000 years ago, yet at the same time, it wasn’t surprising at all. After all, this was Voltron, King Alfor’s greatest accomplishment, a product of Altean alchemy. Of course it would look the part. Sure, Lotor’s design was a bit sleeker than Voltron, but that was purely his own aesthetic choice. Nothing to do with how advanced the technology was.

The thought of his own creation caused his heart to pinch, though he wasn’t entirely sure why. Swallowing, he leaned against the wall as Keith took his seat and Black hummed to life.

Lotor still found himself unwilling to look his rescuer in the eye. He continued to explore the inside of the Lion with his gaze as he asked, “What now?”

“I guess we go back to the others.”

Lotor wasn’t sure how he felt about that answer, but he supposed it was both inevitable, and the only logical course of action. So he nodded in agreement. Black began to move.

And Lotor realized that, for whatever reason, he was not looking forward to seeing Allura again. Not if she truly had fallen for him. Not after he’d led her on for research purposes.

That was all he remembered and he desperately hoped that was the only thing he had to feel guilty for.

He wished he could breach the blank wall in his mind so that he could know for sure.

* * *

 

They’d been flying for what felt like an eternity when Keith finally broke the silence.

“Do you remember what happened before you passed out?”

Lotor was silent as his mind knocked against the blank wall, the void where his memories should be. Frustration welled in his chest. “...no.”

Keith glanced back at him, his face unreadable. “Then, what do you remember?”

“I remember preparing to go into the Rift with Allura.”

“Anything after that?”

“No.”

Keith nodded thoughtfully. “So you don’t remember Romelle?”

Romelle? “Who?”

“You don’t remember what you did?”

Anxiety twisted in Lotor’s gut. What he did? Romelle? Whatever memories he was missing, something important must have happened.

If only he could remember.

“I don’t... I don’t recall anything after that.”

Moments passed in silence, with Lotor growing more anxious by the second. He fidgeted with a strand of white hair, waiting for Keith to speak.

“Answer me honestly, Lotor. Did you create a hidden Altean colony?”

The absurdity of those words shocked Lotor. A hidden Altean colony? Could such a thing exist? Wait, Keith was asking if he’d created one? With what Alteans?

“What the stars are you talking about?”

Keith swiveled around in his chair to fully face him, training a steady glare at him. “Please don’t play dumb. I was there at the colony that you created. I know what you did.”

“I swear I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

He truly didn’t. A hidden Altean colony? The idea was absurd. Zarkon had killed every last Altean save for Allura and Coran.

Hadn’t he?

“I was there! I met and talked to Romelle, a member of the colony, who told me everything you did. And you really want to pretend you’re amnesiac about that, too?”

Lotor stared Keith, at the fiery determination in his eyes. Romelle was an Altean? Part of a hidden Altean colony he supposedly created? Something didn’t taste right.

“How many of these Alteans did you meet?” He asked. 

“Just Romelle. But-“

“And you automatically believed her story?” 

Keith growled, a sound that surprised Lotor with its inhuman quality. “She had convincing evidence.”

Lotor snorted. “Please, tell me about this evidence. In fact, tell me everything, starting with how you found this colony in the first place.”

So Keith did. And with every word from his mouth, Lotor grew more surprised. Someone had set up an elaborate lie to shatter Voltron’s alliance with him, and it had been effective, it seemed.

“Let me point out that you only met one Altean from this colony, the only evidence she provided was the ‘second colony’, which could have been an elaborate ruse, and we both have enemies that would greatly benefit from Voltron losing the tentative trust we had between each other.”

Keith stared at him. “Why should I trust you? You’ve given me no reason to.”

Lotor met his gaze head on. “What reason did Romelle give you to trust her outside of a sob story?”

“You could be saying anything you can to discredit her. It would be in your favor to shift the blame from yourself to her. I can’t trust that you’re telling the truth.”

“Like I said, there are many people who would benefit from us no longer trusting each other. Anyone could have set the colony story up. I can’t make you believe me right away, but maybe you shouldn’t have believed this Romelle so readily, either.”

Keith leaned forward. “Why didn’t you say any of this the first time we accused you of this? When Romelle was there?”

“I don’t know.” Lotor shook his head. “I don’t remember anything between entering the Rift and waking up in that pool. However, if I was truly corrupted by quintessence, I probably wasn’t behaving like myself.” He sighed and stared Keith down, brows furrowing. “Speaking of, would you mind informing me of what happened during that time? I’m finding the lack of memory incredibly... irritating.”

So Keith told him everything, and as he spoke, cold horror slipped down Lotor’s spine and settled in his stomach. Oh god. Oh god. He’d gone and basically done the worst things he possibly could and he didn’t remember any of it.

He knew that not having memories didn’t make him any less responsible for his actions. Neither did the whole being completely saturated in quintessence thing.

He didn’t know if he could possibly make this better.

“Oh, god.” Lotor groaned and dropped his head into his purple hands.

“Yeah.” Keith said, his voice oddly soft. “You didn’t exactly do yourself any favors.”

Lotor only sighed, hating himself for what he’d done. Hating the implications that that’s the sort of person deep down. The sort of person he’d spent his whole life trying not to be. The same as his father. 

“You can try and clear your name of at least the Altean colony.” Keith said quietly. Lotor lifted his head and stared at him with tired eyes. “We’ll go back to the others. Regroup. Let Black rest and rest ourselves. Then we’ll go to the Altean colony and the place Romelle showed me. If you’re innocent, we’ll know for sure.”

Lotor slowly nodded, ready to accept this small beacon of hope.

“But if everything Romelle says turns out to be true, there will be consequences.”

“It’s a good thing she’s wrong, then.” 

Keith only looked at him, eyes thoughtful. Lotor found himself wanting to blush, though he didn’t understand why.

He found himself slipping back into a dark swirl of regret and tried not to let himself dwell on his thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is like half actual theories and half wishful thinking. I bet you can guess which bits are which. 
> 
> I just think Lotor deserved better and I don’t trust season 7 to make things right
> 
> Find me on other sites:
> 
> tumblr: @glitch-h  
> twitter: @ramone_me @lotorotor  
> Instagram: @caramelmacchiatoart


	4. How To Piss Off Everyone Just By Showing Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith returns with Lotor and has a very unhappy reunion with, well, everyone. He can’t blame them but that doesn’t make t any easier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve been listening to this playlist a lot while I write this fic... here’s a link in case you want to listen to it while you read it
> 
>  
> 
> LINK

-KEITH’S POV-

Keith was surprised when Lotor said that he didn’t remember anything that happened between entering the Rift with Allura and waking up at the Oriande. Did quintessence mess with a person’s memories? That brought up the unanswerable question of whether Zarkon remembered much before his well deserved death. It was an interesting thought.

Keith considered the situation, glancing at Lotor over his shoulder. Even if he’d conveniently forgotten that point in time, that didn’t change the fact that he’d been harvesting Alteans for quintessence. That had happened long before entering the Rift.

He decided that was a topic best brought up.

“Answer me honestly, Lotor. Did you create a hidden Altean colony?” He already knew the answer was yes. The question was whether Lotor would admit it.

Genuine shock filled Lotor’s face. Or at least, what seemed like genuine shock. “What the stars are you talking about?”

So he wasn’t going to. Alright, then. Keith swiveled in his chair to face Lotor more fully, directing a glare at him so that he would know he’s serious. air to fully face him, training a steady glare at him. “Please don’t play dumb. I was there at the colony that you created. I know what you did.”

“I swear I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

The pseudo surprise in his voice caused anger to flare in Keith’s chest. “I was there! I met and talked to Romelle, a member of the colony, who told me everything you did. And you really want to pretend you’re amnesiac about that, too?”

He was only slightly prepared for the next words out of Lotor’s mouth. 

“How many of these Alteans did you meet?”

How many? Why did that matter? One was enough to condemn him. One had condemned him. “Just Romelle. But-“

“And you automatically believed her story?”

Keith growled in frustration. “She had convincing evidence.”

Lotor snorted. “Please, tell me about this evidence. In fact, tell me everything, starting with how you found this colony in the first place.”

So Keith did. Lotor’s eyes slowly grew wider as he spoke, his face still painted with that fake surprise. Sure, it didn’t look fake, but this was Lotor. He’d already proven himself a skilled actor.

Hadn’t he?

“Let me point out that you only met one Altean from this colony, the only evidence she provided was the ‘second colony’, which could have been an elaborate ruse, and we both have enemies that would greatly benefit from Voltron losing the tentative trust we had between each other.”

Okay, Keith had to admit he brought up a good point. But this was still Lotor. Not only that, but he’d had centuries to come up with a convincing lie in case he was caught out. “You could be saying anything you can to discredit her. It would be in your favor to shift the blame from yourself to her. I can’t trust that you’re telling the truth.” 

“Like I said, there are many people who would benefit from us no longer trusting each other. Anyone could have set the colony story up. I can’t make you believe me right away, but maybe you shouldn’t have believed this Romelle so readily, either.”

Keith hated that he technically did have a point. Still, there were holes in Lotor’s story. He leaned forward. “Why didn’t you say any of this the first time we accused you of this? When Romelle was there?”

“I don’t know.” Lotor shook his head. “I don’t remember anything between entering the Rift and waking up in that pool. However, if I was truly corrupted by quintessence, I probably wasn’t behaving like myself.” He sighed and stared Keith down, brows furrowing. “Speaking of, would you mind informing me of what happened during that time? I’m finding the lack of memory incredibly... irritating.”

Keith felt a pang of unwanted sympathy. Amnesia would be annoying, he was sure. So, he recounted everything, watching as Lotor’s face changed. The pure horror was almost convincing. Okay, it was pretty damn convincing. Keith struggled to cling to his doubt, trying to remember that, while Lotor deserved to be saved, he still couldn’t be trusted. Unfortunately, he felt himself sliding more to the feeling bad for Lotor side of things.

“Oh, god.” Lotor groaned and dropped his head into his purple hands.

He looked oddly vulnerable, with waves of despair emanating off of him. Keith felt the sympathy in his chest grow. Sure, Lotor was a good actor, but could anyone fake that amount distress, as if it gnawed at the very core of their being?

“Yeah, you didn’t exactly do yourself any favors.” His voice was gentler than he’d meant for it to sound. Perhaps that wasn’t such a bad thing.

Lotor sighed, and the sound was filled a pain that Keith suspected reached further than just their conversation. It pushed him off of the precipice he’d been clinging to, sending him into the depths of believing Lotor. Or at least, somewhat believing him. Accepting that there was more to the story.

“You can try and clear your name of at least the Altean colony.” Keith said quietly, deciding that he could give him this chance. This opportunity to prove himself, and lift some of the pain from his shoulders. Lotor lifted his head and stared at him with tired eyes. “We’ll go back to the others. Regroup. Let Black rest and rest ourselves. Then we’ll go to the Altean colony and the place Romelle showed me. If you’re innocent, we’ll know for sure.”

Slowly, hesitantly, Lotor nodded.

Still, Keith didn’t want to give away that he had basically done a 180 and was inclined to believe the alien. Just in case he was wrong, though he found himself hoping he wasn’t.

“But if everything Romelle says turns out to be true, there will be consequences.”

Something flashed in Lotor’s eyes that Keith couldn’t place. Was it defiance? Hope? Determination? “It’s a good thing she’s wrong, then.”

Now, Keith’s interest was piqued. He stared at the alien, mind puzzling over his words and actions. Puzzling over his own reactions to the conversation. 

Up until that point, Keith’s only thought had been “save Lotor from the Rift.” Now that he’d accomplished that, he realized his game plan for what came next had been nonexistent. Maybe he shouldn’t have thrown Lotor that bone, and instead come up with some way to keep him contained and out of harm’s way. Not forgiven, but not left for dead.

But everyone deserved a second chance, right?

The one thing Keith knew for sure was that he didn’t actually know anything at all.

Perhaps that’s why he could be a bit impulsive at times.

* * *

 

“I can’t believe you brought him back here.” Allura snapped, her eye blazing with anger. Keith held up a placating hand, his other resting behind him on Lotor’s arm in an attempt to keep him back

They’d reunited with the Paladins on a planet near where Keith had left them, where they were stocking up on supplies. Or at least, they had been until the Black Lion had landed and Keith had emerged with his less than welcome companion. Now, three angry humans and three furious Alteans were tensed in a defensive formation in front of them. Keith sighed internally, wondering why things had to be so difficult.

“I’m sorry, Allura, but I don’t know what you expected,” he said, trying to keep his voice even and calm so as not to escalate the situation.

“I don’t know, I thought maybe you’d have the sense to dump him somewhere far away from here, not be so cruel and careless as to do... this!” the princess made a sharp gesture to Lotor who took a small step back. Keith’s hand twitched so that, rather than simply resting on Lotor’s arm, his fingers were wrapped around his wrist, keeping him in place.

“Allura, I’m sorry.” Lotor said softly.

The anger on her face cracked for a split second, revealing aching pain and heartbreak, before she was hiding behind a mask of rage once again. “I don’t want to hear anything from you.”

Keith could practically feel Lotor open his mouth to say more, and he squeezed his wrist in warning. He would only make things worse than they already were.

“I’m sorry, but he’ll be out of your hair again shortly. We just need to rest up and recharge and we’ll be on our way.”

Pidge spoke up suddenly. “Wait, where are you going this time?” 

“There’s just some things I need to take care of.” Keith’s eyes flickered to Romelle, who was glaring at him suspiciously, her hand ghosting protectively over the princess’s shoulder. If Lotor ended up being right, well, the less she knew, the better.

“Alone? With Lotor?” Pidge raised one eyebrow. “Bad idea.”

“I can handle him.” Keith dismissed her concern.

”That’s not-“ she started to argue.

“Why do you keep disappearing, Keith?” Lance interrupted quietly, his voice thin. His shoulders were slumped, stance more defeated than defensive.

“I’m just... I’m just doing what needs to be done,” he replied, trying not to feel bad for what he was doing. Failing.

Was he technically betraying his team by helping Lotor? One look at their faces revealed what they thought about it, and it ranged from “maybe” to “absolutely”. But the small pang of regret in his chest wasn’t enough to deter him.

He’d had enough. They’d never support this path, he knew that, but he was going to persist. He had to. That didn’t mean he wanted to see, feel, the accusation any longer. Besides, there was someone else he had to worry about.

“Is Shiro still asleep?” He asked.

“Yeah, he’s resting in the Yellow Lion,” Hunk replied.

“I’m going to check on him.”

Hunk nodded and led the way to his Lion, Keith dragging Lotor along as he followed. After having Yellow open her doors, Hunk rested a hand on Keith’s shoulder to stop him from immediately marching inside.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

Keith blinked. “Someone’s gotta check on him while he recovers.”

“No, not that,” Hunk cast a furtive glance at Lotor, who’s face remained impassive, “I meant, you know, going off doing who knows what alone with Lotor going who knows where.”

“Oh,” Keith said, “there’s just a few unanswered questions that are bugging me. That’s all. You don’t need to worry.”

“I’m going to worry about you, can’t help it.”

Keith gave him a soft smile before shrugging his concerned hand off and heading into the Yellow Lion, Lotor in tow. Inside, a cot was against the far side across from the door, a body resting on top. A familiar body that had an unfamiliar shock of white hair. Shiro.

Keith let go of Lotor’s wrist and approached the bed, brow furrowed with worry. Some of his concern dripped away as he saw the way Shiro’s chest rose and fell as he breathed, his face peaceful. He was fine, but having your soul transferred into the body of your evil clone probably took a lot out of you. No wonder he was still passed out.

Just as those thoughts flitted through his mind, Shiro’s eyes fluttered. Keith held his breath as the man slowly blinked, gaze focusing on Keith. Then on his scar. Then back to his eyes.

“What happened to you?” Shiro’s voice was hoarse.

Keith laughed once, the sound incredibly fake, his stomach dropping. “Oh, you know. I battle things in space a lot, it’s not exactly a safe hobby.”

Shiro reached out and ran a calloused finger down the scar. Keith held still, resisting the urge to flinch away. “I was dead, wasn’t I?”

“You remember that?”

“I remember a lot. Not everything, I think, but a lot.” He withdrew his hand and groaned. Not everything, indeed. He didn’t seem to know that he was the origin of the scar.

“Shhh, Shiro. You need to rest.”

Tired eyes probed his face. “You’ve grown so much. I’m so damn proud of the man you’ve become.”

Memories of when they’d first met flashed through Keith’s mind. Memories of a man looking down at a child and giving him the chance to be more than just an orphan and an outcast. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be back soon.”

“You’re leaving so soon?” Shiro rasped, as though his throat was made of sandpaper.

“I have to, but don’t worry. I’ll be okay and your only job is resting. Got it?” He fixed Shiro with a stern eye.

Someone nudge Keith’s arm, interrupting the moment, and he turned to see Lotor standing there, holding a pouch of water.

“He, uh, sounded thirsty,” he muttered, shoving the pouch into Keith’s confused hands.

As if on autopilot, Keith grabbed the drink and stuck the straw into like stabbing a Capri Sun before handing it to Shiro, who moved until he was half sitting up. “Thank you.”

“Thanks but,” he took a long draw from the straw, “what the hell are you doing here?”

“He’s part of why I’m leaving,” Keith explained, flinching at the steely look Shiro pinned on him.

“As much as I love and trust you, what the fuck?” The relaxed, comforting atmosphere from before had completely shattered, leaving behind a tension Keith could practically taste. He groaned inwardly.

“Shiro...” he sighed, “look, I need him to answer some questions for me. That’s it.”

“I don’t like this,” the man growled, glaring at the drink pouch, as if that was the only thing he was referring to.

“You don’t have to,” Keith snapped before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Then he continued, his voice gentle rather than abrupt, “Like I said, your only job is getting better. Which means don’t you dare worry about me. I know what I’m doing.”

“Shiro.” This time, it was Lotor who spoke. Keith tensed, fearing the worst. “A lot has happened. I’ve done some...” he took a shuddering breath, “unforgivable I things. I know that. But Keith is inexplicably giving me another chance, one that I do not deserve, and one that I would be loathe to waste. I can’t fix everything but... I can apologize. You don’t have to accept it, but I still offer it. I’m sorry.”

Shiro turned his icy gaze from the drink to the one who’d offered it to him. “Don’t fall for his silver tongue, Keith. That was our undoing last time.”

“Please, Shiro.” Keith whispered, pushing gently on his shoulder. “This is the opposite of what you need right now.”

The glare shifted from Lotor to Keith, before softening into something less than anger but still not quite positive. “I don’t know what you’re up to, but I hope to god you’re not falling prey to some pretty trap. Be careful, please.”

“I told you not to worry, okay?” He said, pushing Shiro again, and this time succeeding in guiding him back to laying down. Taking the empty drink pouch, he turned and threw Lotor a look that was halfway apologetic. He had, after all, not only noticed that Shiro had a problem, but had actively done something to help. Keith could appreciate that. After all, Shiro was his brother.

“Let’s go see if anyone needs help with supplies,” he suggested with a gesture toward the exit.

Lotor nodded. Keith cast one more glance at Shiro, who seemed to be struggling to keep his eyes open as he watched them leave.

On all accounts, their return could have gone better. Then again, it could have gone so much worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on other sites:
> 
> tumblr: @glitch-h  
> twitter: @ramone_me  
> insta: @caramelmacchiatoart


	5. Pissing People Off With Your Presence Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lotor is a good person, probably, but no one seems to believe it. Lotor himself doesn’t even fully believe it. 
> 
> Keith is the only exception

LOTOR’S POV

 

Although he had let go some time ago, Lotor could still feel the ghost of Keith’s hand around his wrist.

It was strange in a way how strongly his body reacted to physical contact, yet from a different perspective, it made perfect sense. Lotor didn’t often touch people, and when he did, it wasn’t casual. Even if that was the way it looked, every movement he made was deliberately calculated in the hopes of not fucking up. Even something as simple as placing his hand on someone’s shoulder was a move that Lotor’s quick mind would analyze again and again before executing.

So, naturally, the easy touches from Keith caused sparks to shoot through Lotor’s body. It caught him off guard, disarmed him. Made it easy to tow him into the jaw of the Yellow Lion.

Keith had let go, but Lotor still felt his grasp.

Now, the boy was leaning over a body on a table, worry emanating off of him in waves. Lotor was trying not to listen to the conversation, because it was obviously private and with someone that Keith clearly cared a great deal about. He didn’t want to intrude more than he already was. Still, he was curious over the identity of whoever Keith was fussing over.

Peering around the lithe form of his... savior... Lotor managed to get a look at the person’s face, and felt a jolt of surprise and recognition. Shiro, the leader of Voltron, and the Champion. More shock filled Lotor as he realized how pallid the man was, this man who had been such a formidable opponent in the Arena, and such a powerful force trying to do good by the universe, now looking so weak. Lotor couldn’t imagine what could have reduced him to such a state, but it can’t have been pretty.

Then, he heard Shiro’s voice.

It was rough and raspy, as though he had deep throated a cactus and then refused to drink fluids for a week. Concern filled Lotor, and it was almost unfamiliar. It had been a long time since he’d been around someone who was so obviously not ok that he cared whether they lived or died. He wanted the Champion to live.

His flicked to Keith’s form again and he realized that it was more than that. The new Black Paladin had a strong bond with Shiro, that much was glaringly obvious. And as he noticed the bond the two had with each other, Lotor realized something else entirely.

He didn’t just want the Champion to live. More specifically, he didn’t want someone Keith loved to suffer.

That was an interesting revelation, and not one he intended on dwelling on. The rasp of Shiro’s voice sounded again, and Lotor sprang into action, searching the Lion for anything to quench the obvious thirst.

He hadn’t needed to search for long. Water pouches and non perishable food items were gathered in a box near the pilots seat of the Lion. Clearly, the Yellow Paladin kept himself well stocked. Lotor guesses that he didn’t like to be hungry.

Grabbing a pouch, he eyed a bag of dried plant stuff. He didn’t know what Shiro had last eaten, but he also didn’t know the state of his stomach. If he’d be able to handle having anything inside of it. Lotor decided to play it safe and stick with the water. That was more important anyway.

He returned to where Keith was still fussing over Shiro. He hesitated, unsure how to proceed, before settling for nudging Keith’s arm for attention. Violet eyes turned to him, curiosity in their depths, and Lotor found himself trying not to blush. For some reason, he felt embarrassed about having Keith’s attention and having interrupted whatever moment he’d been having.

“He, uh, sounded thirsty,” Lotor tried to explain before shoving the pouch into Keith’s hand.

Keith grabbed the drink and stuck the straw into it, his movements slow and methodical, before handing it to Shiro, who moved until he was half sitting up. “Thank you.”

“Thanks but,” Shiro eyed the drink dubiously before taking a long sip. He turned his gaze on Lotor, eyes unhappy, “what the hell are you doing here?”

“He’s part of why I’m leaving,” Keith explained, flinching when Shiro turned his gaze on him.

“As much as I love and trust you, what the fuck?” The Champion was almost glaring, leaving Lotor feeling defensive. He’d only wanted to help...

“Shiro...” Keith sighed, “look, I need him to answer some questions for me. That’s it.”

“I don’t like this,” the man growled, glaring at the drink pouch. The defensiveness grew in Lotor and he racked his brain for how to bring an end to the conflict. Things had been so much better before he’d grabbed the water pouch. Why had he drawn attention to himself?

“You don’t have to,” Keith snapped before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, “Like I said, your only job is getting better. Which means don’t you dare worry about me. I know what I’m doing.”

Lotor had to say something. This was clearly his fault and Keith didn’t need to defend him. Not when he’d done nothing to deserve getting into a tiff with someone he loved.

“Shiro,” he began, trying to keep his thoughts organized, “A lot has happened. I’ve done some...” he took a shuddering breath, “unforgivable I things. I know that. But Keith is inexplicably giving me another chance, one that I do not deserve, and one that I would be loathe to waste. I can’t fix everything but... I can apologize. You don’t have to accept it, but I still offer it. I’m sorry.”

Shiro pinned an unforgiving gaze on Lotor, who sighed inwardly. “Don’t fall for his silver tongue, Keith. That was our undoing last time.”

Ouch. Never mind that Lotor couldn’t quite remember everything he’d done wrong, he was still trying to take responsibility for it. True, he had said that Shiro didn’t have to accept his apology, and he stood by that, but it still stung. It always stung a little.

“Please, Shiro.” Keith whispered, pushing gently on his shoulder. “This is the opposite of what you need right now.”

Shiro shifted his eyes to Keith. “I don’t know what you’re up to, but I hope to god you’re not falling prey to some pretty trap. Be careful, please.”

“I told you not to worry, okay?” He said, voice soft, pushing Shiro again, and this time succeeding in guiding him back to laying down. Taking the empty drink pouch, he turned and gave Lotor an apologetic look. Lotor didn’t know how to tell him that he couldn’t exactly expect a more positive reaction to his presence than that. He didn’t deserve better.

“Let’s go see if anyone needs help with supplies,” Keith suggested with a gesture toward the exit.

Lotor nodded. Making himself useful sounded good.

* * *

 

Supplies were packed. After deciding that it was better for all five Lions to be in the same place, Keith had wrangled a small ship from the Blade of Marmora as a favor. Lotor was nervous. Something about the prospect of spending an extended amount of time in space alone with Keith, chasing proof of his own innocence, made his stomach flip. Silly reaction, really.

They were about to board the ship and take off when a reedy voice called after them.

“Keith!”

It was Lance jogging over to them, his eyes flicking dirty looks in Lotor’s direction. He stopped less than a foot away, his chin lifted with determination. “Keith, I really don’t think you should do this.”

“I don’t see why.” Keith replied, defensive.

“Dude, you’re part of our team. I don’t see why you think you need to leave with him when we need you.”

Keith sighed. “Lance, I’m not choosing Lotor over the rest of you.”

Lance looked disgruntled and muttered something Lotor didn’t quite catch. Keith sighed again.

“You’re being childish. I’m doing what I need to do, and then I’ll come back. Quit worrying.”

“Fine,” Lance threw his hands up in mock surrender, “I still think it’s a bad idea, but go do what you do, space cowboy.”

The nickname confused Lotor, and he glanced at Keith, who only rolled his eyes. Seemed that he understood fine, and was even a bit exasperated. Lotor supposed it must be a human thing.

Lance lowered his hands, his mouth quirking into a worried frown as his eyes flicked over Keith, and then to Lotor. Something hardened in his gaze and he turned to face him more fully.

“Alright. I can’t stop Keith from going with you. But you should know that if you do anything to put him in harms way, you’ll regret. Anywhere you go in the universe, we’ll find you.” Lance was glowering, and Lotor supposed it was supposed to be intimidating. Regardless, he clearly meant what he said. In an effort to reassure, Lotor tried to pour as much sincerity into his voice as he could.

“After everything Keith has done for me, I would never allow harm to befall him. I know my word means little to you, so I’ll be sure that he returns safe and sound. After all, actions are louder.”

As he spoke, he felt more depth to his words unfurling in his chest. No, nothing would hurt the Black Paladin during this journey, or preferably ever. Not if Lotor had any say in the matter.

He wondered when he would stop being surprised about his own feelings. More than that, he wondered why he felt this protective streak over Keith. Clearly, the man could take care of himself and hardly needed anyone to save him from anything.

It probably just had to do with the kindness Keith had extended to him, and him saving his life.

Lance’s eyes were narrowed at him. “You’re right. Actions are louder.” 

With that, the boy turned and left. Lotor wasn’t sorry to see him go.

But the words of literally everyone weighed heavy on his pointed ears. A tendril of guilt slithered around his stomach. Was he really right to steal Keith away from his other duties for his own selfish needs?

“You don’t have to help me, you know.” He said, the guilt and another unfamiliar feelings churning in his stomach. “You’ve already saved my life. I owe you for that. But you have no obligation to me.”

Keith sighed, a sound of mild irritation. “I’m well aware that I don’t have to do this, technically. But I am.”

Lotor frowned at that. “Are you sure this is what you want to do?”

“Positive. Now get on the damn ship.”

So Keith was not easily deterred, it seemed. This stubbornness was something that Lotor could see being a source of annoyance for Voltron and their allies at times, but he found it rather... endearing. 

He got on the damn ship.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man I really don’t know if anything I’m writing is making sense. This entire fic is extremely self indulgent, but fic has always been that way for me ngl
> 
> Find me on other sites:
> 
> tumblr: @glitch-h  
> twitter: @ramone_me  
> insta: @caramelmacchiatoart


	6. Put All Your Faults To Bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and Lotor begin the first leg of their journey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does anyone even like this fic?

Even when separated by both time and distance, Keith still felt the presence of the Black lion. She was a thrumming in the back of his a mind, a faint glow when he closed his eyes, a gentle static under his skin. This was what it meant to be truly bonded to your Lion. 

She was with Keith as he placed the Marmoran ship on autopilot, and she was there as he wondered about why he had put himself in this situation. He was seriously trying to figure out just why exactly he was doing this, other than the hum of constant certainty that was Black.

On all accounts, his actions did not make sense. Abandoning his team to rescue the person that had betrayed them? And then going out of his way to help clear said traitor’s name, defending him against his friends? Besides, it was Keith that had brought Romelle and the accusations in the first place. Why would he be out here trying to prove himself wrong?

He knew part of the answer was that everything had happened so fast. One second he was raising questions about Lotor’s past and intentions, next second they were all duking it out in their respective giant robots. And Lotor, well, he’d ended up beyond reason, screaming. He had been acting on quintessence fueled rage. They were acting on instinct, driven by heightened emotion and the sting of betrayal. They’d been right, hadn’t they?

Keith wasn’t so sure. When he’d brought back Romelle, he’d never expected things to go down as they did. Lotor hadn’t even been allowed to explain his side of things. Keith was no lawyer, he had dropped out of school, but something about this bothered him. 

So, here he was. In space. Trying to figure a few things out. 

Black hummed and Keith wondered what her motivations were. He may be connected to her as close as can be, but she was still largely a mystery. She always would be.

Keith didn’t know how long they had been flying in silence when his companion spoke.

“I don’t mean to push my luck,” he began, “but, um, do you have a plan?”

Keith shrugged. “Get us to the Altean colony and allow you to try and prove Romelle wrong.” 

Lotor shook his head, his white hair shimmering. “No, no. I meant after this escapade. I don’t believe there’s really a place for me anywhere, unless you have any bright ideas.”

Now, that was a good question. While Keith pondered his answer, the presence of Black hummed and seemed to perk up. She pressed broken flashes of images into his mind, all seeming to center on Sendak sitting on a throne surrounded by the bodies of broken people of all species while fire raged behind him. Keith frowned.

“What were we thinking?” he muttered.

“Pardon?”

“Oh,” Keith returned his attention to his companion, “honestly I don’t think the Empire’s going to fall into very good hands in your absence.”

Lotor was silent, seeming to ponder his words, before slowly speaking. “You’re saying you want me back on the throne?”

Keith shrugged. “Who else is there? Sendak? Another galra? Anyone else would just bring us back to Zarkon’s way, which I’m sure we can all agree should be avoided.”

“I’m not sure the others will be amicable to that.” 

“Me neither.” Keith sighed, his thoughts flitting to Allura. She would put up the most resistance, of that he was sure. Who could blame her? Certainly not Keith, though he hoped that she wouldn’t be as stubborn as he knew she was capable of. As unlikely as that was.

Lotor’s ears flicked down, his mouth twisting unhappily. “I’m not sure I should be emperor.”

Keith glanced at him. “You had a much different attitude when you took control the first time.”

“Yes, but I had to be confident, or the galra would have never accepted me. I’m a half breed, which means that they see me as lesser automatically, which means that I can’t show any weakness, but I’ve been missing in action and a strong emperor never leaves his throne, not without good reason. Not without warning. I highly doubt I’ll be able to regain control, especially since we don’t know how long this journey will take, however necessary it may be.” Lotor puffed out a breath as he finished, slumping where he sat.

Black hummed brighter in Keith’s mind, this time presenting an image of Lotor standing triumphant at the Kral Zera, the lit torch framing his silhouette. His long hair flowed with the wind and he glared down at the other galra with a glint in his eye that seemed to dare any of them to question his authority. He was beautiful in his regality. Black seemed to huff insistently, as though she wanted Lotor to see it, too.

“You know, maybe it will be hard to get back to where you were.” Keith said, keeping the picture in his mind, even as Black retreated slightly. “But do you wanna know what I think?”

“What’s that?” his voice was tired, though tinged with sarcasm. As though he didn’t have the energy to care.

Somehow, Keith cared enough for the both of them.

“I think you’re doubting yourself too much.” he said. Lotor’s white eyebrows raised slightly as he lifted his eyes to look at Keith. “You’ve straight up forgotten what you’re capable of because you’re worrying too much about the past. What we’re doing now is getting you ready to step into the future, and I think that future should involve reclaiming your crown. You’re an emperor. Act like one.” 

Yellow eyes were filled with surprise mingled with a nebulous something else as Lotor stared at Keith. He cleared his throat slightly, eyes flicking away, his cheeks darkening by a fraction of a shade. 

“I suppose you’re right. What matters is keeping power out of the wrong hands, yes?” he spoke with an air of forced nonchalance.

“Exactly.” 

Sort of exactly. He didn’t just want to keep Sendak off the throne. He wanted specifically Lotor on it, and he wasn’t sure how much of that was Black’s influence.

Still. It was a start.

 

* * *

 

 

They had to sleep some time, and that’s when Keith realized that he had overlooked a minor detail in his rush to procure the ship.

It was for a solo journey. One person, without a companion. It had also been the only ship available, and Keith hadn’t been bothered by it at the time; he’d had plenty of practice sharing small spaces with people. But when he’d begun to set up a space for sleep, he’d realized that there was only enough room for one.

“You can take it,” an already much too familiar voice said from right next to his ear. 

“Huh?” Keith turned and gave the man a questioning look.

Lotor gave a small smile. “That’s the only sleeping are, yes? It’s yours. I’ve slept in… less hospitable conditions, so I will be fine.”

Keith snorted. “Don’t be stupid, Lotor. I’ve slept in plenty of pilot’s chairs, it’s no big deal. You take it.”

“And what if I refuse? It’s yours.”

“I’m not arguing with you,” he huffed, “just take it already.”

“But I won’t be able to sleep if I know you’re uncomfortable. My conscience won’t allow it.” Lotor argued. Raising one purple hand, he lightly shoved the other towards the mattress. “It’s better this way.”

“Are you going to be stubborn about this?” 

Lotor tapped his chin in mock thought. “Yes, actually, I am.”

“Fine,” Keith crossed his arms in front of his chest, “then we’ll share.”

“Pardon?” shock crossed Lotor’s face, which amused Keith quite a bit.

“I don’t have the patience for you to be so self sacrificing over something so idiotic. So if it gets you to stop, we’ll share,” he explained. “Now, I’m tired, but I’m not sleeping ‘til you’ve got your purple butt in this bed so I know you won’t do something dumb like not listen.”

“I don’t think I’ve been called daft in so many ways in such a short amount of time before.” Lotor smiled as though the idea delighted him. “So you really are insisting on this.”

“Yep.”

The smile faded and Lotor sighed. “Very well then.” Gingerly, as though he wasn’t at all sure of himself, he settled on the mattress, clearly pushing himself to the side to give Keith as much room as possible. Appreciated, to be sure, and Keith slipped in beside him.

Lotor was big, that was for sure, but he was also very warm and Keith found that he definitely did not need the blanket. Even with several inches of space between them, heat radiated off of the larger body in waves. What was strange to Keith, was that he didn’t mind at all. In fact, he very soon found himself drifting off to sleep, exhaustion taking over and hauling him under. The last thing he was conscious of was Black’s presence seeming to settle over him like a comforting hug, and he smiled as his consciousness drained completely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY! I lost my mojo for this fic for a bit but -hopefully- I've got it back. And just as hopefully I won't take months and months to post the next update. Sorry bout that....
> 
> When I first wrote fic years ago I had a really bad habit of abandoning fics and I refuse to do that again, so this will be finished. I promise. Luckily someone whose tumblr url rhymes with "prideship" has been seriously helping me find my motivation again so this is me saying thank you for all the encouragement! This would have probably been updated way later without you :x *guilty face*
> 
> Oh, the chapter title is a lyric from the song King by Lauren Aquilina, which I super super associate with Lotor... 
> 
> Anyway, season 8. Oof. I fuckin hated it. On the bright side, anything I write will undoubtedly be better than that mess, seeing as I'm not the type to brutally kill off abuse victims and give the abusers redemption for some god forsaken reason. And I drink respect women juice which the writers clearly do NOT. But ever since season 6 I had very little hope for the end of voltron... will that stop me from writing fic and loving keitor? Of course not. I'm stronger than any shitty creator could ever be.
> 
> Please expect lots of tropes and cliches as I write a way to fix season 6 (even though I don't even consider that canon) because i'm weak and i love that sort of shit
> 
> find me on other sites:
> 
> tumblr: @glitch-h  
> twitter: @ramone_me or @lotorotor  
> insta: @caramelmacchiatoart


	7. There’s Nothing Like Weird Space Stuff To Make People Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two stubborn boys with a lot in common are stuck in space together. It could be worse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Basically I promised myself I’d never abandon a fic ever again (something I was notorious for on other websites) sooooo even if there’s long pauses between chapters ,, doesn’t mean I’m not writing em
> 
> Here we go~

The first thing that Keith noticed as his brain dragged itself back to consciousness was how very warm he was. The second thing was the very large mass that was pressed against his back that was undoubtedly the source of heat. Opening his eyes and rolling over, he felt a jolt of surprise at the sight of the very asleep, almost peaceful purple alien next to him.

Oh yeah. Lotor was stubborn and they’d ended up sharing the bed.

Gnawing on a flake of dried skin on his lip, Keith silently watched his companion for a few moments. Lotor was stretched out on his back, white hair fanned around him, though a good chunk of it was stuck to his face. When he breathed in, some locks got sucked into his slightly parted mouth, and Keith privately thought about how glad he was that his mullet wasn’t that long yet.

The thing that struck Keith the most, however, was how gentle Lotor looked in that moment. His face was smooth, the usual tenseness nowhere to be found. There wasn’t even the crease between his brows that Keith was used to seeing. There was only a man who looked completely untroubled, to the point where he was almost unrecognizable.

Keith swallowed and turned away, swinging his legs off the bed and getting up. 

“Is it morning already?” A groggy voice said from behind him.

Looking over his shoulder, face carefully blank, Keith nodded. “Good morning.”

Lotor gazed at him with an unfathomable expression. “You know, this isn’t the worst way I’ve woken up.”

The human ignored him, searching instead through a storage unit. “I hope you like space goo because that’s all we have for breakfast.”

“Space goo? Wait, that was the Paladins word for the nutritional preserves, wasn’t it?”

“Sure.” Keith dug a packet of space goo out of the unit and tossed it to Lotor, who caught it deftly out of midair. With one for himself, he flopped into the pilot’s seat and tore it open with his teeth. The stuff was green and basically flavorless, but he’d also spent several years in the desert living off of granola bars and peanut butter sandwiches. As long as he was fed, he was good.

In all honesty, he’d give a lot to have a peanut butter sandwich right now.

He glanced at the glowing map on the monitors, at the little blip that represented the ship, flying smoothly along its course. Wouldn’t be long until they reached…

“Things are going to get weird soon.” Keith announced.

“Oh?” Lotor asked curiously. “How so?”

“When I was here with Krolia… time itself got weird. We were traveling together for two years, but when we returned to voltron, only a week had passed. I don’t know how long we’re going to be at this, on either side.”

“Wait, the colony is through a time pocket?” Lotor’s voice was suddenly much closer. Keith turned and nearly smacked his head into a purple face, as Lotor was now bent over the monitors, a crease between his white eyebrows.

“Is that what it’s called?”

Lotor looked at Keith, their eyes inches from each other. Keith was suddenly overwhelmed by the floral smell of the man in front of him, by his towering height, and his golden eyes that were swimming with unreadable emotions. 

“Whoever hid this colony knew what they were doing.” He leaned back and sighed, rubbing one hand over his face. “Perhaps we shouldn’t continue on.”

“Whoa, what do you mean give up? There’s no reason to discourage so easily!” Keith protested.

Lotor’s mouth twisted unhappily. “Time pockets are unpredictable and dangerous. We could end up lost for decades and die of old age before anyone knew to miss us. You were incredibly lucky to make it out in only two years! In fact, the effects that unreliable time has on the body is detrimental, and you have already gone through it once, and I would rather not put you at risk for my own gain.”

“You’re right, I’ve already gone through it once, and I can do it again. I learned how to navigate my way in there, so that is not something for you to worry about. And this isn’t about me! It doesn’t make sense for you to worry about me like that! We came all this way to clear your name and I am not turning my back now!” Keith’s hands clenched into fists as he spoke, his words shooting from his mouth as sharp as knives. “And like I said, you are the best choice for the Galra throne. You are the only person with any hope of bringing peace to the empire and the universe!”

“We’ll find another way. This is a fool's errand. It’s unnecessary. You don’t need to risk your life for me, Keith.” 

“Shut up, Lotor. We’re this close. Stop trying to do what you think is best for me at your own risk, you don’t even know me!”

And Lotor was silent, staring at him, golden eyes wide. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, his ears twitching down. “I don’t have to know you to know that you are not worth risking.”

“Please,” Keith shut his eyes and drew in a breath through his nose, “please just trust me.”

Black hummed in the back of his mind and Lotor’s ears twitched again. His eyes darted around, as if he’d heard something, despite the silence around them.

“I do trust you.” The words were gentle as a summer breeze and Keith felt himself relax a fraction.

“Then let’s go.”

* * *

To Keith, the flares were familiar, something he could endure with calmness, knowing that they would soon be over. He was prepared for them, and he was prepared to help Lotor through them.

What he wasn’t prepared for was a small, purple, wailing infant in the arms of a cold alien as both parents turned their backs. He wasn’t prepared for a child begging his father for the slightest morsel of attention, only to be punished. He wasn’t prepared for Zarkon to look down at his son with a cold indifference and a cruel hand. 

A planet burned because Lotor hadn’t wanted to hurt anyone.  He was exiled from the kingdom, left to wander in the fringes and avoid drawing too much attention. Keith watched everyone Lotor was close to either hurt him, betray him, or be killed for associating with him and his heart ached.

He wanted to talk about what they’d seen, but as was typical of him, words failed. His tongue stuck in his mouth and Lotor looked away with an unhappy set to his jaw.

It was only after a particularly bad memory of child Lotor and the witch that Keith found his voice.

“So you’re the tall, dark, and handsome with a tragic backstory type, huh?” 

Lotor looked at him, his face unreadable. “Please don’t pity me. That’s the last thing I want from you.”

“I wouldn’t call it pity,” he shrugged one shoulder, arms crossed in his typical fashion.

“I don’t typically let me know about my past, you know.”

Keith laughed humorlessly. “Who could blame you? I doubt you consider any of these fond memories.”

“Some are fond,” Lotor sighed, “my memories of Ven’tar, for one. She was lovely in every sense of the word.”

“She was your Shiro? Or something more?” They’d seen plenty of Keith’s past as well, which he figured was a good thing. He never liked explaining things verbally, and people so often misunderstood what Shiro was to him; a brother and a mentor.

Lotor smiled and leaned against the rocky formation they were seated near. Yes, they were riding out the flares on a passing space whale, and for now, they rested. “I think we were on the verge of something more. We’d had plans to celebrate that night if everything went well… needless to say, it did not.”

They passed some time in silence, though the amount would always be impossible to tell. Keith studied Lotor, the sad, faraway look in his eyes, the way the light illuminated his purple skin and made his white hair glow gently. He thought about the child that Lotor had been, how he’d only ever wanted to be loved by those who should have. 

“You didn’t deserve what happened to you.”

Lotor eyed him, smiling slightly. “I told you I didn’t want your pity.”

“It’s not pity. Just a fact.”

“Well, what about you? You lost your family at such a young age, you faced your own share of struggles, and authority figures refusing to even try and understand where you were coming from,” he said.

Keith shook his head. “It’s different. I had Shiro.”

“You lived alone in a desert for years after facing your own sort of exile.”

“Yeah, the Garrison kicked me out, but I’m also the reason Iverson has an eyepatch. Anyway, I liked being on my own. It was nice.”

Lotor raised one eyebrow, and Keith knew that he had seen the days when he couldn’t do anything except smoke stolen weed and stare at a wall, despairing the fate of Shiro. And that he knew that on better days, he was still dedicated to finding his lost brother, that all signs pointed to him not enjoying the solitude. 

“And you didn’t even know your heritage. No wonder you lashed out. You were all galra and didn’t even know it.”

“It could have been worse.”

“It should have been better.”

Keith sighed and responded with a look that he hoped said “and the same should be said for you.”

Then he did say, “we should keep moving. Hopefully, we’re almost there.”

Lotor agreed and stood, holding out a purple hand. He did this often, insisting on pulling Keith to his feet, or helping any other little ways, and Keith still wasn’t used to it. He wasn’t used to the feel of the large, warm hand in his, or the way Lotor held on for a tick longer than strictly necessary.

He also wasn’t used to this new, forced understanding between them, thanks to viewing each other’s pasts like a movie reel. 

One thing he did know was that he was becoming more and more convinced that helping Lotor had been the right thing to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Churned out another chapter can u believe??  
> Hope y’all like it I guess
> 
> Pleas comment I live for comments but also be nice to me so I don’t astral project to laying in the mud beside Hans Christian anderson


End file.
